


When Carver Met Merrill

by Penthesilea1623



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: A Happy Accident universe, F/M, Fluff, SO MUCH FLUFF, spin off of an AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-03-28 22:36:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3872290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penthesilea1623/pseuds/Penthesilea1623
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carver Hawke is pretty pleased with how his life is going.  He's tall, not bad looking, and a star rugby player at Kirkwall University.  He's never had a problem finding girls to go out with, and never felt the need to settle down with just one.</p>
<p>But Merrill is unlike any girl he's ever met.  When his sister Annie invites her to move into the apartment they share above The Hanged Man he discovers what's been missing from his life.</p>
<p>Various episodes telling how Carver met Merrill and fell in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. When Carver Met Merrill

**Author's Note:**

> I frequently have discussions with tumblr friends about head canons for characters we adore, and with the amazingly talented artist lunardaisyart (who has been kind enough to draw my characters on numerous occasions) those characters are Carver and Merrill from A Happy Accident. Some of the head canons have turned into drabbles which I've posted on tumblr, some I've only shared with lunardaisyart, but there are enough of them now that I've decided to put them all together and post them here on AO3. 
> 
> I'll try and post them in chronilogical order whenever possible.

Carver Hawke has never met a girl like Merrill.

He’s never had a problem getting girls. He’s never had to even try to get girls really, they generally come to him. It’s one of the advantages of being 6’4” with black hair and blue-green eyes and athletic (or as his sister Annie says ‘an overgrown musclebound jock’). The girls have just always been there, watching from the sidelines, calling out his name, fluttering around him when he steps off the field. Most of them have names like Peaches and Candy. Most of them are blonde and taller than average because he gets a crick in his neck if he has to bend too far when he’s making out with them. He likes them well enough, a comment that earns him a smack on the back of his head from his sister. 

“You like them ‘well enough’? When did you turn into such a misogynistic jerk? Well enough for what? To make out with? To sleep with? Because Maker knows you aren’t with these girls for their scintillating conversation.” 

“I’m not looking for anything serious right now.” He tells her.

She give him a look of utter disgust, “The mating cry of the true asshole.” She tells him and smacks his head again. She may be more than a foot shorter than he is and weigh a hundred pounds less, but that’s never stopped her from telling him exactly what she thinks of him, occasionally punctuating it with pokes or a punch to the arm. She actually hit him on the nose with a rolled up newspaper once, like he was the bloody dog.

He tries to have a conversation with Peaches that night, the kind of conversations they used to have at home when Da was around talking about history or philosophy or world events. Peaches looks blank and begins to tell him about the dress she’s going to wear when he takes her to the homecoming dance. When he points out he actually hasn’t asked her to the homecoming dance she bursts into tears and breaks up with him.

He hadn’t realized she thought they were going out. 

“Asshole.” Annie repeats when he tells her about it when he gets home.

He’s a freshman at Kirkwall University. He and Annie have moved into an apartment above a bar in Lowtown, and they’ve been looking for roommates. They found one, some sad sack doctor whose wife cleaned him out in a divorce. He’s okay, but Carver doesn’t really like the way he looks at Annie. They’ve got two more bedrooms they can rent out. 

He comes home one afternoon and there’s a girl sitting on the sofa surrounded by open books. She looks up when he walks in and blinks big green eyes at him. 

“Hello.” She says with a smile. 

“Uh…hi.” 

“You have such lovely books.” She tells him. She’s small with short dark hair not really long enough to put into ponytails, but she’s done it anyway and they stick up in a way that should look weird but actually looks…cute. She’s cute, very cute. Possibly the cutest girl he’s ever seen.

“Uh…thanks. They’re my sister’s mostly.” 

As if she realized he was talking about her Annie appears from the kitchen carrying two mugs of tea. “I actually did have honey, it turns out. I’ve no idea where it came from.” She sees Carver and smiles. “You’re back!” She looks remarkably pleased with herself and Carver’s learned to be a little wary when that happens. “Did you introduce yourself to Merrill?” 

He glances at the cute girl. Merrill. He’s never heard the name before but he likes it. “Uh…no, not yet.” 

Annie rolls her eyes. “Merrill this is my brother Carver. He’s a little slow but he means well.”

He hates it when she does that. 

Merrill turns those green eyes on him and his heart does a weird sort of fluttery thing. “Oh no. I don’t think that’s true. He’s just thinking about what to say. That’s a good thing. So many people just open their mouths without thinking. It’s much nicer when they do.” She smiles approvingly at him.

And he finds himself smiling back. Even more surprisingly, when he turns to Annie she’s smiling as well.

“Merrill’s going to take the bedroom next to yours.” She informs him. “I warned her about your snoring like a locomotive but she doesn’t seem to mind.”

“I grew up next to a train track.” Merrill explains. “I like the sound of locomotives.”

“That’s good. I guess.” He turns to Annie. “Can I talk to you?” He asks gesturing to the kitchen.

“Sure. We’ll be right back, Merrill.”

“All right.” Says Merrill agreeably. She turns back to the book in her lap.

“Who is she?” Carver asks as they walk into the other room. “We haven’t run the roommate ad for weeks.” They’d stopped after some very peculiar people had turned up in response.

“I met her up on Sundermount. She’s starting classes at the University on a partial scholarship. I thought maybe Varric would give her a part time job downstairs to help out with the rest of her tuition.“

“What the fuck were you doing up on Sundermount? I thought you were just going to the beach?”

She gave a small shrug. “I got lost. I stopped to ask this strange old woman for directions and she said she’d tell me if I gave her a lift up to Sundermount and delivered something back to Kirkwall for her.”

There were so many things that could have gone wrong with that scenario that Carver was momentarily speechless. “What the fuck did she want you to deliver?” His mind went to drugs, or guns.

Annie gave him a brilliant smile. “Merrill.”


	2. The First Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Early morning has always been Carver's time to himself. So what to do when he discovers their new roommate is a morning person too?

Carver Hawke wasn’t as social as his sister Annie.

Okay, no one was as social as Annie was. She seemed to thrive on interaction with people, to need it. The way most people needed food and water, she needed to talk and laugh and gather people around her.

Carver was almost the complete opposite, and as much as he loved his sister he sometimes needed a break from her and her friends, from the noise and the laughter and the constant movement because Maker his sister never stopped. It had driven their mother nuts when they were all small. _Maker’s sake, can’t you just be still, Anabel?_ was a constant refrain when they were growing up. It didn’t bother Carver quite that much, but if he tried to keep up with her for too long he found himself becoming increasingly irritable, defensive and just plain unhappy. Or as Annie put it “a miserable cranky bastard”

It wasn’t that he didn’t like being around people, he just needed not to be sometimes. He needed quiet.

Growing up with and living with Annie made that almost impossible, unless he woke up early. 

Early morning, when the sky was just getting light was Carver’s favorite time of the day.

Annie would sleep past noon if you let her and was generally incoherent for at least another hour after that. He wasn’t sure if Anders actually slept late, but he kept to himself and generally kept to his room until Annie stumbled downstairs, and aside from Carver’s not liking the way the man was sniffing around his sister, Carver was perfectly happy with that arrangement.

He had the apartment to himself at this hour and he liked it that way. He liked the quiet and the still emptiness. He more than liked it. It was like he needed the quiet and the emptiness the same way Annie needed noise and conversation and people. 

So he was more than a little disturbed when, the morning after their new roommate had moved in, he walked into the kitchen and found her awake already, standing on the counter, poking around in the top shelf of the cabinet. 

No one else was supposed to be up at this hour. He tried to back out of the kitchen without being seen and backed into the doorframe with a loud thud. 

Merrill whirled around at the noise, saw Carver, gave a startled squeal and lost her balance. Carver had no idea how he crossed the room so quickly but he reached out and up catching her around the thighs just as she grabbed hold of the open cabinet door and swung outwards. One of her hands reached out automatically, coming to rest on his shoulder. 

He was suddenly hyperaware that she was wearing only a pair of cut-off denim shorts and a knit camisole, that her skin was warm and soft and that she smelled amazing, like something green and fresh, almost like the way grass smelled when you just mowed it but a hundred times better. He swallowed hard. “You okay?”

She nodded and gave him a tentative smile. “Yes. You startled me.”

“Sorry. I didn’t think anyone else was awake.”

“Neither did I! That’s what made it so startling. Usually I’m the only one awake with the sun. It’s my special time.”

Carver found himself smiling at her. “Me too.”

Merrill started to smile back and then looked genuinely dismayed. “But then I’m intruding on your time! That won’t do at all! Help me down please.” She’d gone from tentative to authoritative in seconds, and Maker she was cute when she was authoritative.

He did as she asked, realizing how little she was as he did. Barely taller than Annie, but she seemed more delicate somehow. Or maybe it was that he and Annie had gotten into so many scrapes together growing up that he never thought of her as delicate in the slightest.

Merrill definitely was.

It made him feel…protective. Like he should be looking out for her and taking care of her. Making sure she was safe.

That was weird.

As soon as her feet were on the ground she reached for a wrap she’d left over the back of one of the kitchen chairs, and wound it around her. “I’ll just go back to my room while you have your time.”

To his surprise he heard himself say. “You can stay if you want.”

She gave him a careful look. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah.” He wasn’t even lying. “Did you need help finding something?” He asked gesturing at the cabinet.

For a moment she didn’t seem to know what he was talking about and then her face lit up. “I was thinking I might bake something. My foster-mother always baked in the morning. I think my nose is missing the smell of it, and I wanted to bake something for your sister. She’s been so kind to me, finding me a home and a job. She’s so very friendly. And nice.”

Carver tried not to scowl. “Yes.” He said, thinking it was ridiculous to be jealous of your own sister. “Everyone loves Annie.” 

“Yes.” Merrill agreed. “But she’s not a very restful person, is she? Not like you are. Don’t get me wrong. Annie’s a lovely, good person but I don’t know if I’d have the energy to keep up with her all the time.” 

Carver could only blink at her. “You think I’m restful?” He’d certainly never been accused of that before. Being sulky, broody, and a bit of a tit, yes. Restful? No. Not ever.

“I don’t mean boring.” She hastened to reassure him. “It’s just you’re easy to be with. You don’t take any effort. It’s like being alone, being with you.”

He frowned trying to figure out if that was a compliment.

She saw the frown and looked immediately distressed again. “I didn’t mean it like that. Oh, my tongue. I have these perfectly wonderful thoughts but somewhere between my brain and my tongue they get all muddled and come out sounding just awful, that I’m ungrateful for your sister and that I think you’re dull. It’s not that at all. I’m a bit odd is all. I get a bit uncomfortable if there are too many people around and too much going on, especially if those people are very lively. But I don’t feel that way at all with you. You just sort of blend in to the background.” She shook her head. “That doesn’t sound any better, does it? And it probably doesn’t make any sense either.” 

“No.” He said carefully. “I think I know exactly what you mean. Sometimes I need to be alone too.” He’d tried to explain it to his father once and Da had suggested that perhaps Carver was an introvert. Carver had denied it vehemently, visions of the weird antisocial kids at school who never talked to anyone and who looked as if they never saw daylight parading through his head. He wasn’t anything like that, he’d insisted. He was an athlete, a jock, girls loved him, he had tons of mates. Da had just smiled and told him you could be all those things and still prefer quiet and need some time to yourself. Carver thought the whole thing sounded pretty feeble, but he’d followed Da’s advice and found it helped. “It helps me… I don’t know… to recharge or something.”

“Yes!” Merrill exclaimed excitedly. “That’s it exactly. You’re so clever to put it that way.” She was beaming at him and he found himself beaming right back. “Maybe we could share the alone time.” She suggested.

“Yeah. I’d like that.” They smiled at each other for a moment and then he remembered what she’d been doing when he’d walked in. “So what did you need for your baking? I could probably tell you if we had it or not.” 

Merrill brushed his offer aside. “Oh, that’s all right. I’m not actually very good at baking. I mostly just like the smell of it. Even if things don’t end up tasting very good they still smell nice when they’re in the oven. But it’s probably best I don’t attempt it as a thank you for your sister.”

“I can bake.” He admitted. He actually loved puttering around the kitchen though not many people knew that. 

Merrill looked at him in awe. “Really?”

“Well, nothing complicated. I can make chocolate chip cookies though.”

She was smiling at him again, her green eyes shining. “That’s my very favorite cookie.” 

He could hardly look away from them. “I could show you how to make them.” He offered.

When Annie stumbled downstairs an hour and a half later they were still in the kitchen, Merrill was sitting on the counter holding a cup of tea and Carver leaning next to her, drinking milk out of the carton. They were both eating cookies and laughing.

Annie gave him a suspicious look. “Who are you and what have you done with my sulky bad-tempered brother?” She asked opening the cabinet and pulling out her coffee mug.

Usually a comment like that produced a scowl, but not today. Still smiling he held out the plate. “Shut up and have a cookie.”


	3. The First Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It didn't happen the way he imagined it but that didn't make it any less perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, this one has a bit of angst in addition to the fluff...

Merrill had unlocked the outer door to the apartment and was struggling to hold it open while she maneuvered her bicycle inside. 

It was a tricky business. The door was a heavy metal thing that stuck a bit so she generally had to use two hands to yank it open. That meant leaning her bicycle against her hip while she did so, and if she yanked too hard her bicycle would fall over and she’d have to let go of the door to pick it up and then the whole thing would start over again. After almost two months in the apartment though, she was finally getting the hang of it.

Unlock the door, prop it open with her hip or backside, pushing it open enough so that she could stick the front wheel of the bicycle between the door and the frame so it didn’t close again. Move one hand from the handlebar to the seat to push it in further. The real difficulty lay in the fact that, though there was room underneath the stairs to easily store at least three bicycles, there wasn’t quite room enough between the front door and the stairs to wheel the bicycle straight in. You had to wheel it in straight until the front wheel was completely inside and then turn it sharply sideways, parallel to the stairs to get it around the bannister. Only then could you straighten it out and put it under the stairs.

It was tricky but getting easier each time.

She was just beginning to ease the bicycle carefully forward when a voice said. “Here,I’ve got it.” The door was pushed open all the way and she looked up to find Anders standing there.

She blinked at him. “Oh. Thank you.” She quickly wheeled the bicycle in and under the stairs. Anders was standing by the now closed door. “Thank you.” She said again. 

Of all the roommates Anders was the one she felt least comfortable around. Not that he was unkind or even unfriendly really, but he lacked the warmth of Annie or Carver, or maybe it was that the sister and brother were so very warm and welcoming, though in very different ways: Annie, bright and friendly, always laughing, bestowing hugs and kisses on everyone, never seeming to stay still, and Carver…

Her heart did a strange little flutter at the thought of Carver. She knew the others complained about him being sulky, and Annie teased him because he wasn’t as quick as she was, but Merrill knew few people who were as sharp and quick as Annie Hawke. Merrill had never found Carver sulky in the slightest, and they spent all sorts of time together. Both were early risers and it had become a tradition for them to sit at the kitchen table every morning talking over tea and breakfast, or not talking; it was equally comfortable either way, and as far as Merrill was concerned a perfectly lovely start to the day. They’d started meeting up on campus as well, accidentally the first time, but they knew each other’s schedules now and more often than not, when she came out of one her classes he’d be standing there waiting for her, and when he saw her his face would break into a grin, and he’d take her books and carry them, and lately he’d hold her hand as well, and they’d walk home like that the whole way.

It was wonderful. 

“Merrill?”

She gave a start and realized Anders was waiting by the door, standing to the side so she could precede him up the stairs.

“Oh. Sorry.” She felt her cheeks turn pink and she scurried up the stairs with him following behind her. 

Halfway up the stairs they both heard something. Something neither of them had heard in the apartment before.

Shouting. More specifically, Carver and Annie shouting, screaming at each other.

“What the Void…” Muttered Anders, and he pushed past Merrill, running up the rest of the stairs and opening the apartment door.

Annie and Carver didn’t even seem to notice their arrival.

They were standing face to face, or to be more accurate, given the difference in their heights, face to chest. Carver was red-faced and for the first time in Merrill’s experience he did look sulky, but more than sulky he looked angry, and underneath both of those he was throbbing with pain, both of them were, Merrill could feel it, could practically reach out and touch it.

“If you’d ever bothered to train that fucking dog…” Annie was shouting.

“Boy’s trained just fine! If you weren’t such a fucking slob and didn’t leave important things just lying around where he could get them…”

“It was on my fucking bed, Carver! If you’ve got Boy trained so well, what was he doing on the bed? Not even your bed, but upstairs in my bed. He’s fucking ruined Miss Lizzy. Stupid fucking dog. It was the only thing I had of hers!”

“Don’t you dare blame me for that!” Carver shouted back. “Maybe if you hadn’t dragged us all to Kirkwall for that fucking drug trial it wouldn’t have been!”

Annie went white. 

Carver seemed just as horrified at what he had said.

“Are you saying Bethany’s dying was my fault?” Annie’s voice had gone from shouting to low and hoarse in an instant.

Carver swallowed hard. “No…I…” He stuttered.

Annie threw what she’d been holding at him and it bounced off his chest and fell to the floor. “Fuck you, Carver!” She turned and fled up the stairs to the attic and you could hear her crying as she ran. 

“Well done, Carver.” Anders muttered. He dropped his bag and went running up the stairs after her.

Carver stood there for a moment staring up the stairs, while Merrill watched helplessly. She didn’t know what to say. 

Carver suddenly let out a roar. “Fuck!” He shouted. He turned around and slammed his fist into the wall and immediately cradled his hand. “Fuck.” He said again, leaning his head against the exposed brick. He turned around and slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor. “Fuck.” He repeated, so softly it was barely more than a whisper. He covered his face with his hands and Merrill saw his knuckles were bleeding and already turning purple from the bruise. 

She quickly ran to the bathroom and grabbed the first aid kit from under the sink. 

When she returned he was holding what Annie had thrown at him: a rag doll, the head torn off, wet with dog slobber. She knelt down next to him, and took his injured hand in hers, looking it over. She opened the first aid kit and took out a foil wrapped alcohol wipe and tore it open. “This might sting.” She said softly and began dabbing at the cuts.

If it did sting he didn’t seem to notice. She squeezed some anti-bacterial cream on the cuts and when she glanced up at him she found he was staring at her. He looked lost, lost and wounded. “Who was Bethany?” She asked.

She saw him swallow and he leaned his head back against the wall. “She was my sister – our sister. My twin.” He blinked rapidly.

A sister, a twin, her loss still so keenly felt that neither of them ever mentioned her. Merrill searched through the box for a bandaid, but there didn’t seem to be any so she reached for a roll of gauze instead and began wrapping it around his hand. “What was she like?” 

He seemed surprised by the question. No doubt most people would have said ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ or something of the sort. Merrill had lost people as well and knew that didn’t help. All it did was offer a sort of finality to the conversation. _I’m sorry for your loss, now let’s move on to more pleasant, less uncomfortable subjects._

“She was good.” Carver said finally. “She was good, and sweet and nice, to everyone. That makes her sound boring as fuck, but she wasn’t.” 

“That doesn’t sound boring at all. It’s very rare, I think.” 

It was a few moments before he spoke again. “Everyone loved her. You felt better just being around her. You could go to her with all your troubles and she just knew what to say or to do to make you feel better. She used to make pies.” He frowned looking as if he wasn’t quite sure why he’d said that.

Merrill looked up from the kit where she’d been searching in vain for some sort of scissor to cut the gauze. “Pies are such a comforting food. What kind did she make?” 

He seemed relieved she hadn’t thought it was an odd thing to say. “All different kinds. Whatever was in season. She used to put them to cool on the window sill like she was living in some kind of fairy tale. Like she was fucking Snow White in the cottage in the woods.” He had a small smile on his face. “When Annie and I got home from school we’d smell them when we were walking up from the main road to the house and we knew if we smelled pie then she’d had a good day.”

Merrill gave up trying to find the scissors. She reached out and touched the doll he was holding. “This was hers?”

His hand tightened around it, and he nodded. “She got it at some fair Annie dragged us to when we were kids.” His thumb ran back and forth over the pink gingham of the dress the doll wore. “She called it Miss Lizzy. She took it everywhere with her. Shoved in the bottom of her book bag at school. Even to the hospital when she was having chemo. Maker, she loved the stupid thing. I thought it was hideous.” His voice broke and he was suddenly crying, sobbing, sobbing in a way that made Merrill wonder if he had ever cried about it before now.

She wrapped her arms around him making soothing noises and after a moment’s hesitation he clung to her, crushing her to him burying his face in her neck, his whole body shaking, sobs tearing through him and she continued to hold him, shifting so she was straddling his lap. She stroked her hands through his thick black hair, pressing kisses to the top of his head and when the sobbing finally stopped and he pulled back to look at her, to his forehead and his eyelids, brushing away his tears with kisses, smiling at him through tears of her own that he’d been hurting so much and hadn’t been able to tell anyone for so long.

He saw them and went still. Putting what remained of Miss Lizzy down on the floor, he reached up with his thumb just as one tear overflowed and caught it. He stared at the moisture on his thumb and then back at her and his hand slid around her back pulling her closer, slowly, until their mouths were almost touching, and she could feel his breath against her lips. 

She was the one who closed the space between them, pressing her lips lightly against his. 

He let out a shuddering sigh and then he was kissing her back, and it was tender and sweet, but too eager to truly be called a gentle kiss.

The kiss broke and they stared at each other, round eyed.

“Goodness.” Merrill managed to get out.

“Wow.” Carver looked stunned. “That was…I’ve wanted to do that for ages. I didn’t think…I didn’t realize…” His eyes flickered to her mouth again, and he suddenly swooped in and kissed her again, harder, deeper this time, in a way that made everything tingle and when the kiss ended he pulled her close, resting his head on top of hers and held her like that.

“Beth would have liked you.” He whispered into her hair, and held her a little tighter.

With her head turned she could see Miss Lizzy’s head lying there, a few feet away. She disengaged herself from Carver’s arms and climbed off his lap, leaning over and picking up both it and the body of the doll, examining them carefully. “Do you know, “ she said after a minute. “I think I can fix her.” 

Carver’s whole face lit up. “Yeah?”

Merrill nodded. “Oh yes. I’m quite clever with a needle. And if we put a little bit of lace at the collar of her dress, you won’t even be able to tell she was torn.” She pushed herself to her feet and held out her hand to him. “Shall we go tell Annie?” 

Carver stood up, shaking the gauze bandage and the roll it was still attached to free, before taking the hand she offered with a grateful smile. “Yeah. Let’s.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lunardaisyart's picture that inspired this can be found here
> 
> [first kiss](http://penthesilea1623.tumblr.com/post/114328439197/lunardaisyart-see-this-is-what-happens-when-i)


	4. Merrill's fashion choices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carver doesn't quite get Merrill's style.

Carver doesn’t even begin to understand the clothes Merrill wears. 

Not that he pretends to know anything about fashion. He used to complain about the things his sister Annie wore, scrounged from flea makets and vintage stores, used to pretend he didn’t know her when she occasionally turned up at games, couldn’t understand why she couldn’t dress like the all the other girls he knew, the popular girls, the cheerleaders and such, didn’t understand why she didn’t even try to fit in. 

Merrill’s clothes make Annie’s seem downright conservative by comparison.

But since Merrill looks more adorable every time he sees her, (even when she shows up at his games, cheering enthusiastically at all the wrong moments, wearing huge scarves and strange hats, always with a large cup of steaming hot tea that she wraps her hands around to keep them warm) he decides he might kind of like the things she wears.

Maybe being different is okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A link to lunardaisyart's sketches of Merrill's clothing style can be found here
> 
> [Merrill's style](http://penthesilea1623.tumblr.com/post/96290211147/lunardaisyart-an-au-merrill-inspired-by-the)


	5. The Right Way to Tell Carver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merrill knows exactly how to tell Carver Annie's unexpected news...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains some not very well concealed spoilers for A Happy Accident.

Merrill was sitting cross legged on the bed and looked up from her knitting when Carver walked into their bedroom. “How did it go?” She asked eagerly. 

Carver didn’t answer, just dropped his bag on the floor and crawled up the bed until he’d reached her, at which point he brushed the yarn out of the way and collapsed, burying his face in her lap and letting out a groan. “Why on Thedas did I think taking Organic Chemistry was a good idea? “ 

Merrill put the knitting down and stroked her hands through his thick dark hair. “Did it not go well?”

Carver turned so he was looking up at her. “Maker knows. I think what I actually finished might be okay and it seemed like a lot of other people hadn’t finished either so unless the professor is planning on failing everyone it might be all right.” 

“I’m sure it will be fine. And your exams are done. Now you can relax and enjoy your winter break.”

Carver grunted in acknowledgment and watched as Merrill resumed her knitting. It was a hobby she’d only recently taken up. The yarn was a soft grey color and whatever she was knitting seemed awfully small. There was something relaxing about lying next to her in the bed they now shared listening to the soft clack of the needles. “Who’s it for?” 

Merrill smiled. “It’s for Annie.” She told him.

He couldn’t help laughing. “I know my sister’s small but I don’t think she’s that small. You sure you’re using the right sized needles?” 

“Oh, you.” Merrill rolled her eyes, or came as close to it as she ever did. Even after more than three years living with the Hawkes, sarcasm was something Merrill had to work at. “Yes, I’m sure. It’s a gift for Annie, but not for Annie.”

Carver tried to unravel that sentence but it was making his already aching head hurt. “Oh.” He shifted so he was lying on his back next to her and pulled one of the pillows over his face half listening as Merrill chattered on. 

“I think grey will be all right don’t you? Since it will be a while before we know if it’s a boy or a girl I mean. I know some people use green for that but given their coloring I wasn’t sure if green would work.”

He stifled a yawn. “Uh-huh.” 

“It’s going to be beautiful no matter which it is. How couldn’t it be? Annie and Sebastian are both so lovely.”

“Mmhmm…” _What?_

He pulled the pillow off his face and looked at her. She looked as serene as ever, just sitting there knitting away at this little grey something she was knitting for Annie.

For Annie, but not for Annie. 

For a baby that would be lovely because Annie and Sebastian were lovely.

_Holy Crap._

He sat bolt upright. 

Merrill just smiled at him. 

“Annie’s pregnant?” 

Merrill nodded. “Isn’t it wonderful?”

Carver could only gape at her. Was it wonderful? He wasn’t quite sure. 

“Annie’s so excited.” Merrill went on as if this was the sort of thing that happened every day, which Carver supposed it was, but not in this apartment and not to his sister. “And Sebastian’s over the moon.” 

Sebastian Vael had knocked up his sister. “Are they getting …”

Merrill interrupted him. “They’re still working out the details, of course, but there’s time enough for that. The baby’s not due until the summer.” 

Carver sat there feeling … he wasn’t sure what he was feeling actually. His sister was having a baby. 

That was weird. 

She’d be an amazing mom, he admitted. Nuts, but amazing. And Sebastian was so straight-laced he’d probably balance out the nuts part. He never thought Annie would end up with a guy like that but anyone who was in the same room with them for more than five minutes couldn’t help seeing they were crazy about each other. He watched Merrill knitting. She’d been knitting this same piece for the last few days, and the realization made him frown. “How long have you known?” He asked suddenly.

Merrill didn’t even look up from the knitting. “Oh, about a week. We thought we’d wait until your exams were done to tell you. Annie didn’t want you to be distracted.”

It was just the sort of weird thing Annie would do. Go through something life altering and not tell him because he had a fucking chemistry exam.

“You’ll be a wonderful uncle.” Merrill informed him and he found himself grinning.

He would be, he realized. He’d be an awesome uncle.

_Uncle Carver_. His grin got even bigger. When he looked at Merrill she was smiling back at him. He reached up and touched the knitting. Now that he knew it was baby clothes he could see it was a small sweater. “You’ll be the best aunt.” 

Merrill sighed happily. “Isn’t it wonderful?” 

He put his head back in her lap, watching as she began knitting again. “Yeah.” Uncle Carver. “Yeah, it is.”


	6. Staring Contest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A typical interactions between Annie and Carver threatens to ruin Merrill's plans for the evening until Isabela suggests a solution.

Isabela walked into the kitchen, saw what was going on and rolled her eyes. “Andraste’s tits.” She muttered under her breath. “Not again.”

Annie and Carver had pulled two of the kitchen chairs away from the table and were seated in them, staring at each other without speaking. Merrill was standing by the sink looking worriedly back and forth between the two while chewing nervously on her lower lip.

Isabela walked up beside her. “What is it this time?” 

Merrill sighed. “They both wanted a Ding Dong and there was only one left.”

It was easy to forget that Annie and Carver Hawke were brother and sister. They looked nothing alike: he was close to six and a half feet tall, with a build to match and a shock of thick black hair and she was a scant couple of inches over five feet, as ethereal as a fairy with waist length red curls. He kept his feelings to himself to the point of seeming sulky where as Annie let everything show. 

But every so often it was easy to see, like when there was only one of something, usually a snack. They would bicker back and forth the volume of their voices increasing as they did and then one of them (usually Annie) would shout out “Staring contest!” and they would end up like this, facing each other in silence until one of them broke eye contact. 

It had gone on for twenty-five minutes once, though that time it had been the last ice cream sandwich on a particularly brutal summer day. 

Isabela glanced at Merrill who looked even more adorable than usual in a bright yellow sundress embroidered with yellow sunflowers, and chunky high heeled sandals also in yellow. “You look pretty tonight, sweet thing. Do you and the puppy have plans?”

Merrill sighed again. “We’re supposed be going to the ballet. There’s a Dalish dance troupe performing on campus. They’ve come all the way from the Brecilian Forest in Ferelden, and this is their last performance. I do hate to miss it.”

Annie snickered, thought she didn’t look away from her brother. “You hear that Carver? You’re disappointing your girlfriend. You’re letting her down. Girls don’t put up with that kind of behavior for long.”

They could see the muscle in Carver’s jaw clench even from where they stood at the sink. “Shut up.” He told his sister. He looked as if his eyes were beginning to water.

Isabela rolled her eyes again and leaned over to whisper into Merrill’s ear.

Merrill’s eyes went round. “No! I couldn’t!” She glanced over at the brother and sister who still showed no sign of budging. “Could I?” She asked, turning back to Isabela.

Isabela just shrugged. “I would.”

Merrill straightened up, and taking a deep breath walked over to Carver and Annie. With no explanation and no warning she plopped herself down on Carver’s lap, slipped her arms around his neck and kissed him on the mouth just as he let out a protesting “Hey!”. The word cut off mid syllable, and after a second he pulled her close and deepened the kiss.

Annie let out a triumphant hoot. “Forfeit!” She crowed. “The Ding-Dong is mine!” She called out, leaping from the chair and grabbing it from the counter. She ripped off the wrapper and sank her teeth into the chocolate covered cake.

Carver broke the kiss and stared at Merrill for a moment, “Take it.” He said with a smile, looking at Merrill as intently as he had been looking at Annie a moment before. “I’ve got something better.”


	7. First Time Jitters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carver wants to take his relationship to Merrill to the next level, but for the first time ever, he's not quite sure how to proceed.

Carver Hawke had never been this nervous about having sex before, not even the very first time (which had been years ago, by the way, when they were still back in Ferelden). He might occasionally fumble a bit in some social situations but sex and the things leading up to it had never been one of them. Sex was like rugby for him. He enjoyed it (the women he was with enjoyed it too, he made sure of it.). He was good at it. And like rugby, the skill came effortlessly to him. 

But somehow the idea of sex with Merrill was different. (He didn’t know why that would surprise him. Everything about Merrill had been different, always, since the first time he’d seen her.). The confidence he normally had with girls his age abandoned him with Merrill.

At first he thought it was because she was a virgin. 

Until he found out she wasn’t.

And for the first time that bothered him too.

Not a lot. But definitely a little.

His sister Annie would have called him a hypocrite for that, and probably whacked him on the back of the head, and she probably would have been right to do both. 

“Who was he?” He asked as he and Merrill were washing and drying dishes together one night. He’d managed to hold out asking her about it for two days.

At her puzzled look he added. “That guy. The one you…” His voice trailed off.

“Oh.” She looked vaguely confused by the question. “His name was Fenarel. He was sort of an honorary nephew of my foster mother.” She rinsed the plate she was holding and passed it to him so he could dry it.

She didn’t say anything more and after a moment Carver asked. “Was he an older guy?” Maybe he’d been older. One of those suave and sophisticated guys who loved to take advantage of young girls, someone who’d swept her off her feet when she was too innocent to know better.

“Oh, no. I think I was a bit older than him, actually. ” 

“Oh.” He tried very hard to not ask the next question but when she handed him the next plate he couldn’t help himself. “So it was his first time too?” Maybe they’d just been bumbling kids together

She gave him a curious glance. “No. He’d been with several girls before. I thought that was important at the time.”

Carver frowned and tried to figure out why he was frowning but couldn’t.

Merrill seemed to sense it and offered an explanation. “I thought since I wasn’t experienced it would be better to be with someone who was. I mean you wouldn’t learn to drive from someone who didn’t drive themselves, right?”

It took Carver a moment to realize she expected him to answer. “Uh. Yeah. I guess.”

Merrill turned back to the dishes. “So Fenarel seemed a sensible choice. As it turned out though, just because you’ve done something more than once doesn’t necessarily mean you’re very good at it.”

Carver’s whole body seemed to bristle at the casually spoken words. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Just the idea that this asshole, Fen-whatever might have caused her any kind of pain was roiling somewhere inside him and he realized he was twisting the dishcloth in his hands.

Merrill’s eyes widened in surprise. “Fenarel? No. Fenarel wouldn’t hurt a fly.” She went back to washing the dishes and as he watched she began smiling. 

He didn’t like that. He didn’t like that at all. 

And then suddenly she giggled, and the giggle turned into a laugh and then she couldn’t seem to stop laughing. She was standing there still holding a dish in her soapy hands, laughing uncontrollably.

Carver watched helplessly, wondering what he was missing. 

“I’m sorry.” She managed to get out finally. “I was just remembering…” Whatever she was remembering set her off again.

He tried to smile back at her. “It’s good that it’s a good memory. I mean that it makes you happy. That it was good. Good for you, I mean.”

_What?_

For some reason, that seemed to make her laugh even harder. She was almost doubled over now

“But it wasn’t!” She told him when she could finally speak again. “It wasn’t good at all. That’s what makes it so funny.”

Carver tried to figure out what that meant and gave up. “I don’t understand.”

“Fenarel. He wasn’t very good at all. Once we went up to my room he was suddenly like a little wind-up toy or a robot who’d been given a list of tasks he had to perform in exactly the right order: kiss this, squeeze that, proceed to step 3.” She started laughing again.

Carver wasn’t sure why that was so funny. It sounded kind of awful to him.

Merrill didn’t seem to be able to stop laughing now. “Well, by the time we were actually…” She made a small gesture. “You know…well, there he was lying on top of me, pumping away like a little machine, but as he did, he would make these strange little grunting noises that sounded like a sickly motor engine, and it seemed to take forever and, in and out, in and out, never changing the pace or the rhythm, punctuated by those strange little grunts, over and over and suddenly out of nowhere I started thinking of that children’s book, you know the one about the train trying to get over a mountain top?”

Carver couldn’t help smiling. “ _ **The Little Engine That Could**_?”

Just hearing the title made her laugh harder. “Yes! That’s the one. So he’s on top of me, and all that’s going through my head…” She burst out laughing again. “All that’s going through my head is ‘ _I think I can, I think I can_ ” and I could feel myself start to laugh, and I thought, no, Merrill, you can’t do that, it’ll hurt his feelings terribly, and I managed not to laugh, though tears started running down my face, but then…” She had to stop again. “But then…” She managed to gasp out. 

“But then?” He prompted.

Merrill wiped at her eyes. “But then he finally finished and he went completely rigid on top of me and he opened his mouth and let out this sort of high pitched bleating noise that sounded exactly like Gladys when she’d get her head stuck in the fence. I couldn’t help it after that.” 

“Gladys?” 

“Gladys was a goat we used to keep. Oh, Creators, he sounded so much like her I thought she’d gotten out of her pen and into the house. And when I looked at him he was making this face and he looked just like her too, and I couldn’t keep it in any more. I burst out laughing so hard that I couldn’t even speak or explain why, I just lay there, tears streaming down my face laughing like a lunatic. By the time I was able to stop laughing he’d grabbed his clothes and left.” She took a deep breath. “Oh, I felt I felt awful about it, I truly did.”

“That was your first time?” Carver asked. “That’s terrible.”

She laughed again.“I know!” She agreed. “It’s not in the least bit romantic is it?” She wiped at her eyes and sighed, turning back to the dishes. “That ended our relationship, of course. Even if I’d wanted to sleep with him again I don’t think I could have without laughing all over again. Poor Fenarel.” 

“Did you love him?” Carver blurted out.

“Oh no.” She assured him. “It wasn’t like that at all. I liked him well enough. I just thought it was time I slept with someone.” She said matter of factly. “I thought love wasn’t important, that it could be just a physical thing, but I was wrong about that, I think.” She handed him another plate, and began scrubbing the saucepan. “I think being in love with the person makes all the difference.”

“How old were you?” He asked.

“Nineteen. It was just before I came to Kirkwall.”

But…”That was four months ago.”

“Mm-hmm.” She agreed as she rinsed the pan.

And he knew she hadn’t been seeing anyone since she’d come to Kirkwall. “So you haven’t…again?”

“I told you. I wanted to wait until I was in love. “She turned her head and looked up at him solemnly, her green eyes huge in her face. “I’m glad I don’t have to wait any more.” 

Carver’s brain tried to catch up to what his ears had just heard. She couldn’t mean…could she? He reviewed her words carefully in his head. _I wanted to wait until I was in love. I’m glad I don’t have to wait anymore_.

He swallowed hard. “Are you in love with me?” He felt stupid for asking, and certain that anyone else in this situation wouldn’t have had to, but it seemed important enough that he didn’t mind if he did seem stupid.

Merrill blinked at him in surprise. “Of course, I am.” She handed him the pan, watching him carefully as he took it. “Didn’t you know?”

He could only shake his head. He seemed to have lost the power of speech. He just stood there, like an idiot, water from the pan dripping steadily onto the floor in front of him.

Merrill turned off the water and turned to face him. “Do you love me?” She asked. For the first time there was a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

His answer came with a swiftness that startled him. “Yes!”

A brilliant smile lit her face. “Yes?”

Maker. He did. He was in love with Merrill, and it seemed so obvious and so right that he couldn’t believe it had taken him this long to figure it out. “Yes.” He repeated with an answering smile. 

For a few moments neither of them spoke.

“Carver?” Merrill asked finally.

“Yeah?” Merrill loved him and he loved her. He didn’t see how life could possibly get more perfect than it was right at this moment.

“I’d very much like it if we could go to one of our bedrooms and make love right now.” She said with a hopeful look

And just like that it was.

“Yeah.” He agreed, grinning like an idiot. “I’d like that too. I’d like that a lot.” 

And without a further word she took his hand and led him from the room.


End file.
